


fooled around (and fell in love)

by unbreakable_groundriot



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Xandarian Kraglin, but not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbreakable_groundriot/pseuds/unbreakable_groundriot
Summary: A lot of fics feature Kraglin as a former street kid or coming from a poor family/planet. I thought it would be interesting to change that up. Kraglin is also Xandarian rather than the fandom made Hraxian.Just a note, Kraglin is technically underage for the first half of the fic whereas Yondu is a few years older. They don't start any sort of sexual relationship until Krags is older, but Yondu does express an attraction toward him from the very beginning.
Relationships: Kraglin Obfonteri/Yondu Udonta
Comments: 69
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of fics feature Kraglin as a former street kid or coming from a poor family/planet. I thought it would be interesting to change that up. Kraglin is also Xandarian rather than the fandom made Hraxian.
> 
> Just a note, Kraglin is technically underage for the first half of the fic whereas Yondu is a few years older. They don't start any sort of sexual relationship until Krags is older, but Yondu does express an attraction toward him from the very beginning.

_"You're still as pretty as the day I met you."_

He’s got big blue eyes and mop of black hair that was probably once brushed with care but is now sticking every which way from fidgeting. His cheeks are smooth of hair but pockmarked from the blemishes of puberty. His face is still round from baby fat and he hasn't grown into his limbs yet. He stands with a slouch as though it might make him look less gangly. He smiles shy and small before casting those big blues to the ground. 

Yondu can't keep his eyes off of him.

The job is a simple transport of precious cargo from Point A, some hick planet, to Point B, Xandar. The hick planet, which Yondu didn’t care to learn the name, is home to Xandarian old money that had once made their fortunes thanks to slave labor. Now it was known for exporting ore and fine weaponry.

The Obfonteri family was one such old-money family and the precious cargo was their youngest son.

“Kraglin is to arrive unharmed.” His father sets a possessive hand on the back of the boy’s neck. “You will receive half of your payment now and the other half once his fiancé inspects him and finds him free of harm.” His hand tightens and his boy stands a little straighter. 

Ravagers don’t deal in slavery. Yondu learned to read by studying the Ravager Code. He could quote it forwards and backward and in at least three languages. This job skirted too close to trafficking in his opinion. Transporting someone for an illegal marriage wasn’t trafficking, Stakar had scolded him. The money was too good to pass up and the boy would be fine. They were reuniting lovers. It was for a good cause.

“You have my word.” Stakar rumbles. 

He had only brought Yondu planetside to improve his people skills. It would take more than two years of freedom for him to unlearn some of the behaviors he’d picked up as a lifelong slave and every opportunity to play civilized helped in that endeavor. 

On this planet he’s only learned two things so far:

  1. He is not supposed to snatch giant blood-sucking bugs out of the air and eat them.
  2. He has a thing for big, blue eyes.



That first one was a shame, really. The bugs are tasty and plentiful on the humid planet. Eating them kept’em from biting you too. Really he was doing them all a favor. He was filling his black hole stomach and getting rid of a pest.

The second one is more of a shock than anything else. Battleslaves did not mate unless their master's allowed it. The ones who showed true prowess might be gifted something pretty to fuck for the night but those gifts had always turned his stomach. He'd never taken to the simpering slave girls and boys tossed into his holding cell. Even now he preferred his partners to be made of silicone and gears. 

“Yondu, take him to the ship.” 

Yondu sets his eyes on his captain and then on the boy. He shuffles his feet until his father releases his hold. “And get him settled nicely. I have a few details to go over with Mr. Obfonteri.”

* * *

Kraglin was the quiet type or maybe he was intimidated by his escort. Yondu thought he looked pretty fucking good in his Ogord clan leathers and he liked the way people turned their eyes away in fear or stared with lust.

“You wanna see a trick?”

“A trick?” The boy's voice pitches slightly. It’s really quiet and there’s a wavering quality to it that comes from years of obedience. It's unattractive and as goofy as those limbs he hasn't grown into yet.

Yondu grins. One day he’ll sport a few more gold and silver teeth but for now, they're mostly his. “Something cool. Pissed off the old man first time I did it. Said it was reckless or some shit.” His grin only widens when Kraglin's eyes widen with curiosity.

The arrow whips around them to the whistle of an almost whimsical tune. It circles and circles them closer and closer. It zips through legs and nearly nicks ears. It comes to rest barely a hair from the tip of Kraglin's straight nose. He's grinning wide and genuine and there's a purplish flush to his cheeks.

He flinches only when the arrow zips out of reach. Yondu has one hand on his bird-like wrist and the arrow in the other. “Don’t you go touching that. Would burn the shit outta you.”

Shrinking violet that he is, Kraglin drops his gaze and whispers an apology.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you guys ever looked up Sean Gunn when he was younger (especially when he was on Gilmore Girls)?

There are no Xandarians waiting for them when they arrive at the M-ship. Martinex watches them from the cockpit and lets them in. There is a pile of luggage just inside the entry ramp.

When they finally leave, Kraglin jams himself into one of the larger portholes to watch as the land slowly disappears. He watches as the planet grows smaller and smaller. Yondu can’t tell if he’s sad or not. The boy has been silent since he’d been admonished hours ago.

  
Stakar designates him as a bodyguard/babysitter and sends him out of the cockpit. The Starhawk has docked three standard Xandarian days away at one of the less disreputable disreputable ports where she can restock and give the crew time to blow off steam while they wait for their captain. There’s no point in wasting fuel on a jump, Stakar had told him as he and Martinex set up a card game between them.

Captain needed some downtime too, he supposes.

* * *

He finds Kraglin still jammed into the porthole. The skinny spit of a thing is shivering and his pretty, straight teeth chatter loudly. He’s still dressed for the humid heat of his now-former home.

“You gonna freeze if you don’t put on some real clothes.”

Kraglin looks up just in time to catch Yondu’s heavy, blue-black coat right in the face. It takes a full ten seconds for him to properly react. The coat slowly slides onto his lap. He touches the Ravager crest on the arm briefly before he shrugs the garment on. It’s a bit too short in the arms and far too baggy everywhere else. The look of relief is evident in the lowering of his pale lids.

Yondu’ll be cold soon enough but he’s got some extra layers stored somewhere. For now the grey thermal he’d found on some planet a couple jobs ago will do. He’s not sure what Gear Shift is and the logo is kind of ugly but it’s a damned warm shirt and just tight enough to show off his body... Not that that matters.

“Don’t know what got packed.” He wraps his arms around himself after zipping the coat up. He makes no move to get up so Yondu situates himself on the opposite side of the large, circular window. It takes a bit of awkward leg bumping for them both to fit but they manage.

Yondu, well, he’s not good with feelings and he knows it. He can charm the pants off of anything wearing pants and he’s learning how to quell his anger into something more useful than murderous rage. This whole... feelings thing isn’t his area and he can see the boy is having feelings.

“Your daddy didn’t seem too sad to let you go.”

A shrug. Kraglin leans the side of his head against the glass. “Just how things is.” He bundles the heavy coat closer. He looks good in Ogord blue. “Mama died a while back. Think he’s just trying to get rid of us all so he can be a bachelor or some sh... stuff.”

“Shit.” Yondu supplies with a grin. “You're on a Ravager ship, boy. Ain’t no need for proper vo-cab-u-lary.” When Kraglin cracks one of those shy smiles he continues. “Fuck your daddy. Xandar’s a pretentious shithole but at least they ain’t got them damn bugs.” He swats at nothing which earns a slightly less melancholy smile.

“I saw you eatin’ one when ya’ll landed. Stakar knocked the shit outta you.” He stumbles over the obscenity but at least he’s talking.

“How am I supposed to know it’s rude?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Tasted good.. And Captain don’t hit that hard. He’s just a hardass.”

Kraglin sits up and away from the freezing window. He’s still shivering but it’s calmed some. “You like him. I can tell.”

Yondu rolls his eyes. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. Stakar had saved his life. He was teaching him how to be a proper man... Or as proper a man as a space pirate could be. He was the closest thing to family Yondu had ever known. 

He extracts himself from the porthole and Kraglin’s long legs. He gives the boy's thigh a good smack. “Come on. Captain said I’m supposed to keep you alive. Can’t have you freezing to death. No profit.”

* * *

Kraglin slumps in his seat at the center of the ship’s galley. He doesn’t touch the bowl of rehydrated dehydrated soup in front of him so Yondu snatches it away.

“Ain’t you supposed to be happy? We bringing you to your loverboy or some shit.” He makes a mocking kissy-face that looks more like a floundering fish impression.  
Kraglin tries to make himself smaller and smaller. “Yeah. Real happy.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes but it falls back into the pretty blues.

Yondu sets his spoon into his bowl with a splash that Stakar would get on his ass for. “You ain’t excited or nothin?” He frowns when he gets no answer. “How old’re you, boy?”

Kraglin goes tense. “Eighteen.” The answer is robotic and rehearsed.  
“Eighteen my blue ass. How old’re you? You don't act no eighteen.”

Kraglin’s eyes go wide and he starts to shake but it isn’t from the cold. Yondu knows a thousand types of fear. He knows the deep, dark fear a child holds in his heart when he disobeys his master.

“Sixteen.”


	3. Chapter 3

"You're thinking with your dick. If it wasn't so annoying I'd say I was proud." Stakar leans his head against his hand. "You're growing up finally. Never thought I'd see you make moon eyes over anything but a hunk of plastic."

It had taken some convincing to get Kraglin to curl up on the top bunk in the cabin Yondu commandeered on missions with Stakar. He'd gone quiet and wide-eyed again and had refused to produce more than monosyllables. Yondu had tucked him in the way he remembers his father had once done years and years ago. It was stupid and sentimental but it had earned him one of those little smiles.

"I'm thinkin' with my head." He crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his hip out of habit. His arrow and holster had been safely locked away in his cabin. It was a mere whistle away and the holster tended to knock into things if he wasn't wearing his coat. "Something ain't right. Sixteen-year-old kid needs sneaking onto Xandar? Why can't he just get sent the normal way? He got citizenship. All this shit about marriage sounds like one of them Jovian soaps you like so much."

The cockpit glows a deep, undulating orange for several long moments as Stakar's solar wings flare. Yondu's never seen them in action but he's seen the aftermath. They were alone. Martinex had gone to bed and Stakar had taken first shift. Yondu was meant to be asleep as well but he'd only managed to get his boots off before he'd stormed out of his cabin. 

"Watch your tone, son." He warns low and steady. "Sometimes you don't question a job. I know the boy's age. I have forged documents with his name on them. This is some Xanadarian political business. They trade their kids off for power all the damned time." He slowly points a finger at Yondu's chest. "You keep your eyes on your cut and let me worry about the details."

It's a lot of units. It's enough units for him to finally buy an M-ship of his own. Stakar, for all he claims otherwise, shelters him. With his own ship, the captain wouldn't have an excuse not to let him run solo missions or join the fleet during raids. He's even got a name all picked out and one of the maintenance crew is real good at fancy paint jobs.

"It ain't right. Something ain't right. I can feel it." He might not have his Tahlei anymore but he can still _feel_... Or maybe it's just the way their cargo's voice wavers and pitches in fear over nothing and everything. Maybe it hits too close to what used to be home. 

"Go to bed, Yondu."

* * *

The sight of big blues peeking out from beneath his coat does something funny between his legs. He unashamedly adjusts himself and then shucks his shirt. It lands somewhere near his boots. "I don't remember tucking you into my bed." He leans his forearm against the top bunk and eyes the lump in his bed. 

Kraglin seems so small despite his height. He's curled up under the thick, brown blanket with Yondu's coat covering his upper half. "Ship makes weird noises. I ain't never been in space before." He starts to uncurl those mile-long limbs but Yondu stops him with a wave of his hand. 

"I don't cuddle. Scoot." 

He doesn't dare drop his pants to sleep in his underwear like he usually would. Kraglin's in nothing but some soft sleep clothes he'd found crumpled in his luggage. He's pretty sure he'd do more than just think with his dick given the temptation. 

Kraglin dutifully scoots over until he's nearly against the wall. Yondu's pillow smells like whatever Kraglin uses to clean his hair and maybe, just maybe, he is more than just yawning when his head hits it. 

The Kree had used a precision laser to peel his Tahlei away from his spine. Without it, he'd lost much of the natural preternatural perception Centaurians possessed. Still, there were things he just knew about the environment and the beings around him. Helpfully it allowed him to sleep without worrying about being attacked. His instinct would react before his conscious mind truly understood what was happening. He notices but doesn't react when Kraglin slowly inches closer. He doesn't react when the boy nestles his head onto his chest. He doesn't react when one of those goofy arms curves around his chest to rest on his collarbone.

"You're too young for me." He grumbles groggy and gruff when a not-very-heavy weight settles onto his stomach. Kraglin's wiggled into his coat again and it's a mighty fine sight.

"You're getting me off this ship."

Those big blues are wide and watery in the low light of the cabin. One long-fingered hand presses the yaka arrow against Yondu's adam's apple. 

"You got balls on you, boy." 

He lets out a quick staccato whistle and the arrow sets alight...Except it doesn't. 

"Aww hell."


	4. Chapter 4

Kraglin presses the arrow closer to Yondu’s skin. From his opposite sleeve, he produces a long, slim blade which he holds closer to Yondu’s blue cheek. His hands shake.

“You’re getting me off of this ship. I don’t care where you take me but I ain’t going to Xandar. Fucking throw me out the airlock for all I care.”

Yondu considers his options. The arrow wasn’t responding although his implant lit up the room. Kraglin weighs as much as a wet orloni but that blade is sharp and the Obfonteri family _is_ known for their knives. There was no doubt the boy knew how to use it... But Yondu is a Ravager and a former battle slave.

“Issa shame. You’re so damn pretty.”

It doesn't take much to knock the blade and arrow away. Kraglin clearly isn't trained in self-defense or maybe he is too afraid. A good, solid head butt sends the Xandarian flying back with a broken nose, some broken teeth, and a good gash where his head smacks against the metal bunk. 

Yondu grabs him by the neck and flings him to the hard, grated floor like so much garbage. Blue blood stains his sheets and drips to the floor from Kraglin’s practically gushing nose and oozing mouth. He whistles and this time his arrow corners the boy. It hovers ominously between his eyes. “Only reason I ain’t killed you yet is because you worth so much.”

Kraglin covers his nose and mouth with his hands. He leans in and the arrow inches back. “I’ll tell your captain you messed with me.”

The boy has balls.

“Touched me bad. You already fucked up my face because I said no." His voice in unattractively nasally and wet. There's a certain lisp that speaks to broken teeth. 

Yondu whistles the arrow back into its holster which he then removes from the drawer Kraglin had apparently broken into. "You can cry that shit all you want. Captain won't believe you." He grabs him by the collar of the coat he's now bleeding all over. The deep blue leather masks the deep blue blood. It's not the first time blue blood has stained his leathers. "You're gonna explain what the fuck is going on and you're not gonna hide nothing." 

* * *

Kraglin doesn't scream when his nose is set by a quick jerk of Stakar's wrist. He does cry fat tears that leave tracks in the blood drying on his cheeks. He's missing one of his front teeth and two molars. The blood had been stemmed by a lazy squirt of nanogel to heal the wounds. The teeth would have to be found or coughed up to be replaced and no one on board was willing to wait for either.

"I-I ain't got nothing else on me." The Xandarian snivels. His hands are secured in front of him. He'd been divested of Yondu's coat and was left shivering on the cold, metal ground. "Swear I only have the one knife. Mama gave it to me."

Yondu crosses his arms over his bare chest. He hadn't bothered to put on a shirt but he'd slid his coat back on. "I told you something was wrong but you ain't never listen." He gripes. He shifts his hips to feel the arrow knock against his leg. 

"Now is not the time," Stakar warns. He crouches in front of Kraglin and Yondu is reminded of the day the man had opened his cage and given him his first true choice in life. "Tell us what the hell is going on. I'm supposed to deliver an unharmed brat to Xandar in less than four days. You're supposed to be getting married. What the fuck is going on?"

Yondu assumed his own age was somewhere around twenty-two. He'd been ripped right out of his father's pouch before he could really form memories. He remembers being a scared sixteen-year-old kid not all that long ago. He had emerged triumphant from his first exhibition battle and had been gifted a slave girl for the night. He hadn't taken his master's gift. There wasn't much of an age difference between them but Yondu had spent his life constantly fighting for it. Kraglin, no matter what had happened to him, was still just some kid.

"You...You can't marry a man who's already married." Kraglin's voice shakes something fierce. "Pa...He made a deal. Send me and our shipments don't gotta go through customs no more." He snivels. "I got units. Not as many as he's offerin' but I'll give you everything." He looks up at Stakar and then Yondu. 

Stakar stands. "Hail the Starhawk and find the nearest jump point."


	5. Chapter 5

  
Kraglin Obfonteri trades his freedom for twenty thousand units and a sizeable loan. Yondu Udonta throws in another twenty and relinquishes his cut of the job’s units to pay the difference. 

They replace his broken teeth with titanium. His nose heals just a little crooked. A scar forms on the back of his head from where he’d cut it on the bunk. He is given two uniforms, his knife, and a pair of boots. He's fortunate enough to find a bunk on the Starhawk that had been recently vacated thanks to an untimely death. He is assigned to apprentice under the quartermaster until such a time as he was deigned worthy to go into the field and represent Clan Ogord. 

"You got a knife." Yondu drops his tray across from Karglin and sits down. The boy has breakfast protein porridge dripping down the side of his head. It pastes his bangs to his forehead and drips down his cheeks and nose. His face is purple-pink from either anger or shame.

Kraglin is the quiet type that doesn't complain or fight back when it comes to the hazing common aboard Ravager ships. His food ends up on the floor more often than not. Filthy, blood-covered blasters are purposefully dropped off at his station minutes before his shift is supposed to be up. His hands and knees are ripped up from being tripped and landing on metal floors. Half of his head is even shaved from an incident involving Sakaaran honey. He grits his teeth and bears it all in silence. 

There are whispers that Stakar is soft on Yondu. They say that he's a replacement for the captain's dead children. They call him pet. The ones who call him call him slave don't last very long. They don't whisper about Kraglin. No hand is raised in his direction. There is a sudden red glow to the room when anyone tries. They call Kraglin pet to his face. They call him whore and fuck toy and a dozen other things, but no one dares leave a permanent mark on his skinny body.

"I know." He starts to try and clean the porridge from his head and hair. He'll need a shower or it'll start to stink. 

"So use it. You let them boys walk all over you. You keep letting them fuck with your food and you're gonna waste away. I ain't paid good money to have you get killed before I can collect." He points his spoon at him. He hears all of the rumors. If the crew thinks he's fucking Kraglin then maybe it will keep him safe. He tells himself it's a desire to be paid back that makes him threaten and whistle when Kraglin is out of earshot. 

  
It has nothing to do with the weird feeling in his gut when he thinks about the look of resigned sadness in those big blue eyes when Kraglin's father had finally tracked them down. It had been indigestion and not something else when the man had called Kraglin property to be bought and sold because he was still a child in the eyes of the law. 

"I know you hear me, boy. Goop ain't in your ears." He is somewhat used to these one-sided conversations. Kraglin is an excellent sounding board that he takes full advantage of during meal times. He doesn't say anything but Yondu can see the little changes in his expressions that tell him whether what he's talking about is absolutely batshit crazy. This time he expects a response.

Kraglin grits his teeth. The silver of his new tooth looks good on him. "You want me to just go around stabbin' people?"

Yondu can say it's the most he's heard out of the boy in the three Xandarian months he's been on the ship. 

"Ain't stupid. I'd rather somebody piss on my plate than stab me back." He finally gives up on trying to clean himself up. His sticky hands grab the edge of his tray. "M'shift starts soon and I need to clean up."

"Didn't take you as scared." Yondu turns his attention back to his meal. The food on the Starhawk is better than it looks and he's not one to pass up a meal just to argue with some kid.  
"...I ain't scared."  
"Then stop being a little bitch and fight back."

Kraglin sets his jaw and lets out a harsh breath through his crooked nose. The few months of missed meals and long days of work have started to thin out his face. He won't have that baby fat for much longer. "You do it for me. Why should I bother? I know why they ain't kicked my ass yet."

He really does have balls and that's going to get him in trouble one day.

"Tell Taeff I want you on the training deck this shift. If you ain't scared and you don't want me babysitting then you gonna learn to fight like a real Ravager." He takes a big bite of porridge to hide the grin that threatens to break out across his face when Kraglin storms off. 

* * *

"I thought your Ob-fon-teris was supposed to know how to use a knife." He peeks up over the datapad he'd been engrossed in. Ever since he'd learned to read he liked to pretend to study history and battle strategy. In truth, most of his downloads were mindless romance novels and a particular series of novels about vyloos who formed a warrior society. Stakar had only commanded him to practice his new skill. He hadn't been all that specific about what he should practice with.

"I know how to use a fucking knife!" Kraglin spits a gob of blue blood at his feet. The training bot stands placidly nearby. Its flesh-like covering is still perfectly smooth whereas Kraglin is bruised from head to toe. "You said you was teaching me to fight but you been on your ass this whole time."

  
"I am teaching the way I was taught." He sets the datapad aside and drops his leg from where it had been lounging lazily across the arm of the chair he'd dragged into the room. He can see Kraglin's shoulders tense.

"Well, you must not been taught shit because you always use that fucking arrow." Kraglin spits again. His face goes purple the angrier he gets. "You ain't never checked out a blaster. You ain't never used that knife of yours for nothing but picking your teeth! You just sing like a damned bird." 

Yondu can't really remember being a moody teenager but he sure as fuck doesn't like the sound of one. He stands and takes a moment to adjust his coat, the same one he'd loaned Kraglin months ago, and finally lets out a sharp whistle. 

The arrow floats just under Kraglin's jaw. It's angled just right that another whistle will have it shooting up through that smart-ass mouth and dumbass brain. Kraglin doesn't flinch. 

"Proving my point, U-don-ta." He mocks. Yondu has never met anyone who is terrified of an airlock shitter but doesn't so much as blink as yaka radiation threatens to rip through him. 

He recalls the arrow and drops his coat. He lets the arrow holster drop next and then he steps onto the training mat.

"I'm gonna beat your ass, boy." 


	6. Chapter 6

“Don’t look so proud, boy.” Yondu growls. The medic rolls his eyes. Kraglin’s blade is still impaled in Yondu's left hand. He’d been missing the tip of one finger but the medic had just finished the last stitch to reattach it.

“You said you was gonna beat my ass.” Kraglin lays back on his own cot. He's missing some teeth again. The medic had mumbled something about Kraglin’s planet’s water supply and enamel. His face is black and blue from a combination of the training bot and Yondu’s fists and feet.

“I did beat your dumb ass! You stabbed me.”

Kraglin grins. His teeth are stained blue and his left eye is swollen shut. “You said you was going to train me to use a knife. You ain't never said we was just using fists." He rolls onto his side to watch as the medic carefully extracts the blade from Yondu's hand. He uses no anesthetic. Yondu doesn't flinch. 

"Don't hurt much anymore, does it?" 

Yondu focuses on the nanogel knitting his wound back together. The medic wanders off to prepare for Kraglin's new replacement teeth. "You get used to it. Can't remember the last time something really hurt." 

Kraglin's gaze feels hot on his neck. "Pa used to beat us bad if we did something. Did it even worse if Mama fucked up. He made her watch." He picks at the probably sterile sheet on the cot. "I know it ain't the same but..." He trails off. "Imma practice with my knife more an' I'll use my off shift to train with the bots."

Yondu slides off of his cot. He shrugs his coat on and adjusts it. He gives the boy's shoulder an awkward squeeze. "Maybe next time you'll beat me fair."

* * *

Yondu sets his tray down across from Kraglin. Today's lunch is Arcturian vegetable stew only because it's Stakar's birthday. He's not a big fan of Arcturian cuisine but a meal is a meal.

"You gotta twist to get it out."

Kraglin blinks wide-eyed at him. He twists his wrist and the blade he's shoved under the jaw of a fellow Xandarian slides out like butter. Said Xandarian gurgles a rough scream of pain. He's lucky Kraglin's aim had been off or the blade would have slid into his throat. Instead, it pierced the underside of his jaw, tongue, and soft palate. 

"Get him the fuck out of here." He commands a passing Ravager. The mess hall has gone quiet for the first time in a very long time. "Now wipe your hands. Eatin' someone else blood ain't safe." 

Kraglin sets his blood knife onto the table next to him. The wounded Ravager is dragged off by a few of his buddies. "He was gonna take my food." He spoke in that quiet, wavering voice that indicated he was expecting some kind of punishment.   
"You finally defending yourself. Fucker had it coming. Now wipe your hands, boy." Yondu looks up from his bowl. Kraglin has a spatter of blood on his cheek and his hands and arm are covered in blood. His eyes have a spark of something feral that he's never seen before. 

The boy uses the soft shirt under his coat to wipe his hand clean of blood. "It uh... It felt good." He whispers as though he's ashamed. "Tired of being fucked with. I ain't done nothing to nobody." He picks up his spoon but doesn't even stir his stew.   
"You did good, boy. You need to work but you're gonna be a proper Ravager soon enough." 

Kraglin rewards him with a wide, titanium smile and Yondu suddenly feels indigestion bubbling in his gut. 


	7. Chapter 7

"It's just a week." Yondu snorts over a plate of baked grubs with some kind of spicy sauce. They'd recently visited a planet famous for it and Stakar had taken a liking to the meal. It was the third day in a row they'd eaten it.

Kraglin avoids eye contact. He pushes his grubs around with his fork and watches as one pops open. He'd walked onto the ship as a picky eater but now would eat anything put in front of him. No one cared to cater to some rich brat's palate and a few days of going hungry had broken him. "Issa long time is all." 

They don't really spend much time together. Yondu makes a point of appearing in the mess around the time he knows Kraglin likes to eat and he occasionally drags him to the training deck to see what progress he's made. Since Yondu has stopped shadowing him over the last few weeks, the boy's made some friends. There's a Xandarian half-breed of unknown origin named Tullk. He's a bit older than Yondu is comfortable having around Kraglin but he's shown a protective streak that that ended in a drunken brawl because some dick hadn't known when to shut his mouth about Yondu's affection for Kraglin. The Krylorian, Oblo, is missing a few screws but he's nearly Kraglin's age and they seem to have some interests in common. He often heard them laughing and cutting up while working.

Yondu is not jealous when he finds Kraglin spending time with them. He might admit to being overprotective but that's only because Kraglin isn't a real Ravager yet. He doesn't wear the flame on his arm because he hasn't earned it. He hasn't even left the Starhawk since he'd first stepped into the hangar months ago. 

"I'll bring you back something pretty." He teases. "Now don't make that face. What've I told you about being soft? They only leaving you alone these days cause of what you did."

And really Kraglin has done more than stab one obnoxious crew member. He'd gone particularly stab happy on Achernonian who had made the mistake of grabbing his bony ass. He'd been sentenced to two weeks in the brig for nearly killing a senior Ravager but after Yondu met Stakar in the captain's private quarters had seen the sentence commuted to a week of double shifts. Boy'd only been protecting himself, he'd argued, and it weren't right for anyone to touch on you if you didn't want it.

Kraglin plops a few of his grubs onto Yondu's tray. "Ain't scared of no one." He huffs. "Got my knife. If you taught me how to use a blaster proper then I'd be even more safer." He forms his thumb and index finger into a finger gun and pretends to shoot at Yondu.   
"Ain't teaching you shit until you can afford your own blaster. I don't trust them shits ya'll rent out of the armory." He gladly eats the offered grubs. They burst in his mouth with the taste of wood pulp and hot peppers.

He tries not to grin when Kraglin's face goes all purple. "How can I buy a blaster if you take all my pay? Ya'll don't let me do any jobs so how am I supposed to make any units?"

He's easy to rile up and his voice pitches and cracks on occasion. He's right, of course. He makes a handful of units a day working for the quartermaster and he technically owes Yondu a sizeable amount of units. Yondu always gives him the biggest, shit-eating grin when Kraglin wires him the units.

"Ain't really my problems, is it?" Yondu bites into another grub. "You just keep your ass out of trouble while I'm gone. I know you'll miss my pretty face," he strokes his unscarred cheeks to emphasize his point, "but you'll survive."

Kraglin rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "You're a real a-hole."

* * *

He returns exactly a week later no worse for wear. His virtual pockets are heavy and his actual pockets are almost as full. The only welcome party is an annoyed mechanic who is already bitching about the dings he's made in the M-ship's hull. 

It's the middle of the first shift and the Starhawk's halls are teeming with activity. He pauses outside of one of the crew cabins. Kraglin, always dutiful, would be at his station in the armory cleaning who knows what off of some blaster or maybe he would be doing inventory. He wouldn't find the fixer-upper blaster hidden under his pillow until well after lights out. 

He slips out of the cabin and burps in an attempt to shake off indigestion he suddenly feels. He'd found the blaster in a junker shop where he'd nicked a little light-powered trinket. It hadn't cost him much and he'd already paid for it before he'd really realized his reasoning for purchasing it. 

* * *

Kraglin's titanium smile puts him off of his meal. He considers visiting the medic to talk about how often his stomach goes to shit these days but it's easier to just ignore the problem. 

"Don't look at me like that, boy. You even more in debt than before." He pointedly looks past that big grin and those shining blue eyes.   
"You got me a blaster."  
"I know what the fuck I bought."

The boy had managed to get a holster from the tailor and he proudly wore the blaster at his hip. It would need some repair work but that's exactly what he was training to do anyway. He hadn't stopped cheesing from the moment he'd spotted Yondu from across the mess. 

"I'm gonna learn to be a real good shot then ya won't have no excuse not to take me on jobs." He shovels a huge bite of protein porridge into his mouth. "And I'll make real units and buy shit and go on shore leave like everyone else."

Kraglin's usually the quiet type. He follows orders with nothing more than a salute. He mumbles monosyllable answers to most questions. He stabs anyone who crosses him and chooses not to explain himself. 

For the last half-hour, he hasn't shut up about the gift. His first few weeks on the ship had proved that despite his father being a grade-a bastard he'd been a spoiled brat. No doubt he'd been given dozens of gifts before and Yondu decides to point out just that. 

Kraglin pauses his rambling. He furrows his brows and frowns slightly. "Well...Yeah. Pa and Mama bought me whatever I asked. M' the baby of the family and all..." His smile turns small and wry and shy. "But this is the first time a friend ever gave me something."

Yondu pushes down a particularly large belch. "I need to take a shit."


	8. Chapter 8

Stakar fills one glass with something strong and green. He fills the second glass with something fizzy and red. He settles down next to Yondu and hands the fizzy red beverage over to him.

Yondu hates the feeling of being drunk. Upon his liberation, he’d tried alcohol a few times but the loss of control reminded him too much of his past. He pretended to order hard liquor in front of his comrades but always had the bartender switch it out for fizzy soda. He had an image to maintain.

Stakar watches him closely. In the dimmed lights of his cabin, his solar wings cast an eerie orange glow over everything. “Do you remember the day I picked you up?”

How could he forget? He’d been trapped on a slave ship in a cage he couldn’t break free of. The crew had abandoned the ship and left the unwilling passengers to die. Yondu has been the only one left alive among stinking, rotting corpses. He had no memory of how long he'd been there but he would never forget the sight of a dozen Ravagers storming into the holding area.

“I do, sir.”

“And do you remember what you tried to do?”

Fight, at first. He’d tried to attack with his claws but he'd been too weak from hunger and thirst to do more than swat and growl. His mouth had been muzzled shut to keep him from whistling.

“I tried to kill you.” Yondu sips his fizzy drink.

“Then you offered to blow me.”

It had been terrifying once he’d been brought aboard the Starhawk. He had spoken only broken Kree and the mixed pidgin common among Kree slaves. No one aboard the ship spoke enough Kree to communicate with him and the universal translators worn by much of them didn’t help him. His master had barked orders. He had not taught his slaves proper vocabulistics. Yondu had simply assumed that Stakar, as the obvious leader, was his new master and he’d wanted to please him. Battle slaves weren't good for much outside of battle and Yondu had never bowed down that way before but he'd seen it please his master.  
He'd been rebuffed by gentle words he would never know the meaning of. Stakar had patted his cheek with a tenderness he hadn't known since he was a pouchling and smiled. After a good delousing, a hot meal fed to him by Stakar's own hand, and a translator implanted at the base of his skull his first words had been an apology spoken with all of the meeknesses of a man who had never known a single act of true altruism.

"Don't know why you're bringing it up." He thunks his bootless feet onto the table in front of them just to see Stakar's mouth twitch in annoyance. He spent many evenings on the soft couch that's bolted down in the captain's quarters. For his first few weeks on the ship, he'd slept on that very couch. It was a safe place where he could take off his heavy boots and his coat and his holster and just exist.

"You have power on this ship, Yondu." He knocks his feet against Yondu's until he puts them back on the floor. He points a slow finger at him after taking a slow pull of his drink. "You command respect. You and Martinex will stand by my side one day as men." 

"You callin' me a boy then?" His implant glows and the room almost looks like it's on fire. He's not good at this emotional thing.

"You're the one who said it." Stakar sets his empty glass aside. There's rarely in hurry in his movements. He's still a relatively young man in the eyes of most of the galaxy but he is old enough to be Yondu's father. That fact isn't lost on either of them. "You've got something pretty and starry-eyed rotting away at your brain, son. I know what it's like... But you need to remember your place. You save a man's life and he'll be grateful for the rest of his." He claps a hand onto Yondu's shoulder and squeezes. "You save a kid's life?" He pauses. "Just remember what you thought when I freed you. You understand?"

Yondu searches the man's face. There is no judgment only expectation. "I do, sir."

* * *

Kraglin's gone through one of them growth spurts Xandarians are prone to when they're young. His jumpsuit is a hair too short in the arms and legs and he's lost a hint of baby fat despite resorting to buying rations off of the crew to feed his seemingly endless appetite.

He stumbles over his even longer legs in his haste to catch up to Yondu's stomp down the hall. His personal cabin is on the far end of the crew deck. It's connected to Martinex's cabin by a bathroom and is a privilege reserved for ranked crew members. He'd thus far been doing a very good job of avoiding Kraglin since his chat with the captain a few days ago.

"Yondu!" Kraglin's voice doesn't crack as much as it had six months ago. He leans down slightly as they walk. "I got my first orders straight from the captain." Despite no response, he continues to chatter like an overly excited F'saki waiting on its next meal. "Ain't nothing fancy, you know? I gotta inspect some weapons captan's trying to buy. Says I know enough that he don't need to take Shrike away from his post." 

Yondu hovers his hand over his cabin's biolock. Kraglin's titanium smile is wide and hopeful and begging for approval.   
"You'll finally be able to start paying me back proper then." He hits the lock and steps into his room as that big smile fades. He knows it's not indigestion that makes his stomach bubble this time. "Don't fuck it up."

* * *

Yondu lays under his pile of blankets with his datapad propped up on a soft toy. It's smaller than the datapad but the arms and legs are apposable and it makes for a perfect stand. Stakar had given it to him as a sort of joke to tease Yondu about his hoarding habits. It's blue with a horizontal red crest and red eyes. Somewhere in his memory, he recalls seeing something similar being sold at the coliseum where his master had first debuted him. It had been his first real gift. 

The datapad scrolls automatically with the movement of his eyes. The job Kraglin had accompanied Stakar on had gone off without a hitch. The only casualties were the broker and her bodyguards. The weapons had been taken and her ship stripped of anything worth a single red unit. 

Kraglin would be receiving his flame and a commendation for protecting the captain. Their small fleet of M-ships had already landed.

He feels the presence outside of his door well before the lock beeps out an entry request. He slides out of bed and unlocks the door without bothering to pull on a shirt. Kraglin is pale. His bangs stick to his forehead and his eyes are blown wide. His face and jumpsuit are spattered in greenish blood that stands out against the deep blue leather and purplish hue of his sweaty face. 

Yondu had barely been weaned when he'd slit his first throat. He still remembers the fat tears rolling down the cheeks of his opponent as he'd bled out into the dust of the training grounds. He thinks the little Xandarian boy had been called Pibull. They'd lain together for warmth and comfort just the night before Yonduhad taken his life. He'd taken the lives of dozens of creatures by the time he was Kraglin's age. He'd only ever been worried about surviving and pleasing his master. Mowing down a group of men he'd grown up with had been a point of pride only because of the smile his master had bestowed upon him.

"I didn't mean to kill nobody." His voice wobbles and his eyes threaten to spill over with tears.  
Yondu sighs heavy and tired. "What've I told you about being soft, boy?" He steps aside and jerks his head toward the shared bathroom. "You smell like shit and look worse. Let's get you cleaned up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yondu is buried with a toy that looks like him. It's also shown being held by the Ravager sleeping with Taserface during the mutiny.](https://unbreakable-groundriot.tumblr.com/post/190977266984/current-hyperfixation-guardians-of-the-galaxy-1)


	9. Chapter 9

Kraglin’s the quiet type. He follows orders without complaint no matter how demeaning they might be. He stabs first and doesn’t ask questions when anyone dares put their hands on him. He watches as star charts and planetary maps flicker past his eyes and he memorizes them. He corrects rookie Ravagers during target practice with a quirk of his mouth and firm hands. As the recently promoted quartermaster’s mate, he bares his titanium teeth when equipment is returned in less than acceptable condition. He saves his words for a select few.

Yondu doesn’t remember the date of his birth. He’s not really sure of his true age either. For the last three years, Stakar has gifted him something expensive on the date he’d been freed of his bonds. They don’t discuss the action and none of the other Ravagers seem to catch on other than Martinex. The Pluvian is less of a jealous prick for once day a year and that’s gift enough.

Kraglin holds out a plain, white paper box. Since his own freedom day a year and some months ago, he’s reached his full height of too-damned-tall. He’d cut his hair from boyish bangs to a shorter style spiked with gel or sometimes blaster oil. He’s trying to grow out a beard but it doesn’t quite cover his still round face. He’s still a pup yet despite having crested seventeen months ago.

“Heard Captain say today was special.” He never quite meets anyone’s eyes but Yondu’s and even then it’s a brief flash of blue that quickly returns to gaze at the floor.

“Suppose.” Yondu takes the box slowly as though it might be explosive. He waits only to watch Kraglin squirm. He’s always been awkward, that boy, but now there’s an undercurrent of something Yondu can’t quite put his finger on.

Inside the box is a cheap metal M-ship toy. It’s one of those little trinkets that Yondu would nab as he passes by a stall. It’s worth three or four units and would no doubt break the moment some brat got its hands on it.

“I... been keeping track.” Kraglin makes a vague motion for Yondu to look down again.

The boy writes left-handed despite being right-handed. He’d once mentioned something about superstition on his planet of his teachers beating his right hand hard enough for him to be unable to write with it. A consequence of that meant his writing is nearly illegible and the pen he used smeared over the paper he wrote on.

According to his father, Kraglin was worth one hundred thousand units. The danger of bringing an underaged kid onto Xandar to become little more than a slave was enough to warrant the high price. Ravagers weren’t supposed to listen to whatever story the boy told. Ravagers were supposed to get the job done.

Yondu had loaned Kraglin a hefty thirty thousand units to make up for the lost job and thus buy his freedom. Even now he’s not sure what had compelled him to give up his units. He was going to use that money to buy his own M-ship. He wouldn’t be forced to tag along with Stakar on every job or have a “co-pilot,” which he damn well knew was another way of saying babysitter when he took jobs on his own.

The paper has been folded a thousand times and in places is illegible. Even with Kraglin’s atrocious handwriting Yondu can make out the carefully tallied list of every unit Kraglin has ever given Yondu. The number isn’t anywhere close to the thirty he’s owed but the number of units transferred starts to grow as the boy rises in rank. 

Kraglin’s throat clicks when he swallows. “I know I ain’t... I ain’t done yet, ” he clears his throat, “but imma pay you back. I know you been keeping track,” in truth Yondu hasn’t even thought to keep track of the debt, “but I just wanted you to know that I ain't forgotten.” He shrugs his skinny shoulders. “Ain’t the same what happened to me compared to what happened to you, but I’m damned happy to owe you them units.”

He still hasn't bothered to go to the medic about his stomach problems. Maybe one of them bugs on Kraglin’s homeworld had gotten him sick. That’s when the problems had started.

He sets the little toy back into the box and puts the lid back on. “You’re being soft, boy.” He scolds. He wants to tell him that he’d do it again if given the chance. No one deserved to be bought and sold. Instead, he grabs Kraglin by the back of his skinny neck and thunks their foreheads together. There’s some metal plating around his implant and on impact, Kraglin gives a loud yelp.  
“A-hole!”

* * *

Occasionally they sleep together, though not in the metaphorical sense. There are mornings, especially after bloodbaths, that Yondu wakes with a warm body snoring next to him. Only three men on the ship have bio coded permission to enter his room: himself, of course, Stakar, and now Kraglin. Martinex can technically enter through their shared bathroom but there's a very much spoken agreement that neither will abuse that privilege. 

Kraglin, in Yondu's sleeping mind, poses no threat, and thus he stays asleep whenever the boy sneaks down the hall and into his room. He sleeps sprawled on his belly with his head either jammed onto Yondu's pillow or pressed against an outstretched blue arm. They only sleep and upon waking Yondu promptly bawls him out and kicks at him until he leaves. 

"You feel safe."

"You feel safe."

"You feel safe."

Yondu grits his teeth as the video is played over and over again. It's shitty quality and shaky but the image of Kraglin and Yondu lying in bed together is undeniable. 

"I knew you were screwing around with that kid." Martinex's skin tinkles as his mouth forms into a grin. "Captain isn't going to take kindly to you disobeying him. I know he told you to keep your hands off the kid months ago." 

Stakar had a nasty habit of picking up strays. Martinex was the last known Pluvian in the known universe. He'd been captured, caged, and nearly carried to The Collector when Stakar had chosen to raid the ship. He'd been closer to Kraglin's age at the moment of his release but he wasn't much older than Yondu presumably was. From the moment Yondu had walked onto the gangway of the Starhawk Martinex had it out for him.

They stood at Stakar's side as apprentices and pseudo-brothers. Martinex was a kiss ass that reminded Yondu of the pretty slaves offered to him after he'd made his master proud. He never argued with Stakar and always followed his orders to the letter. They kept their interactions all businesslike after a bout of hand to hand training had ended in Stakar forcing them apart. Yondu had shattered the hand Martinex had tried to strangle him with. 

"You know damn well that I haven't laid my hands on him."

Martinex plays with the datapad as though he isn't about to blackmail the man Stakar makes him call brother. "I don't know anything other than the fact that you've got an off-limits kid in your bed every couple nights. I know you bio coded him to your door and that you treat him real sweet." He leans in and Yondu can feel the air around him grow colder. "And I know Captain's going to be pissed. We all know you can only get your hands on robo-pussy. I guess you're desperate enough to wet your dick with Xandarian trash."

Yondu steps up to him until they're chest to chest. "I didn't know you were desperate enough to suck Stakar's dick that you'd try to lie to his face." 


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't get shore leave because of you."

Yondu keeps his head steady as the medic sews up the deep gashes that line the side of his head and cheek. In years to come, he'll claim the grid-like scarring is from an errant taser net rather than a Pluvian slamming his head against a ventilation grille over and over.

"I don't get no pay because of you. I get to clean the shit pits when I ain't do nothing!"

Kraglin steps into his view and stays there. His face is all purple-pink like when Yondu teases him. The sight usually makes him grin but in this moment he almost feels ashamed to see it. Almost. 

"I'll talk to Stakar. Ain't right to punish you." He winces when the medic's needle grazes the sensitive skin closest to his implant.   
"Uh uh. I don't need you to do shit. You doing shit is what got me into this." His big, wet eyes seem to shiver in the light. "He said I was fucking for power. Said it in front of the whole damned crew!"  
He tries to cut him off but Kraglin keeps up his rant. His voice pitches and wobbles much like Yondu's stomach.   
"I trusted you. I went to you, not the captain when I needed help...But you only care about yourself, don't you? None of us much matter. You don't never think!" He flings a long arm out to gesture around the room. 

Yondu cracks his neck as soon as the medic walks away. "Captain knows it ain't true. He's just showing the crew what's what." Kraglin's changing expression makes him even more uncomfortable. He'd been lucky enough to be nearly catatonic by the time Stakar had pulled Martinex off of him. The Pluvian hadn't had enough broken teeth to stop him from running his mouth to the gathered crowd and Yondu couldn't imagine what his stomach would be doing if he could recall Kraglin's expression.

"You ain't my daddy, Yondu. You ain't my brother or my cousin. You ain't my man." He points a skinny finger Yondu's way. He considers whistling to scare him but Kraglin's never flinched at the sight of the arrow. "I thought you was my friend. I thought I could go to you because you're older... But you don't know what the fuck you're doing neither. I'll get you your units but you stay the fuck away from me."

Kraglin's the silent type. He transfers Yondu a lump of units without so much as a message attached. He registers his blaster under Yondu's name and stores it with all the others in the armory. He trades in his blue Ogord jumpsuit and flame for the mustard yellow of Charlie-27's crew. He doesn't say goodbye.

* * *

The Blue Moon lands hard and then lists slightly to the left as it sinks into a snowbank that had not been there two minutes ago. Yondu knows he's not the best solo-pilot in the universe or the best pilot at all for that matter, but he'd been aiming for an empty patch of snow. The wind was just really strong or something. 

He pulls his coat a little closer as he steps off of the gangway. Contraxia is a breeding ground for STDs and bastard kids if you're into sins of the flesh. Luckily Yondu is into sins of the synthskin. 

Was he supposed to be planetside? No. Was he supposed to be delivering some weird trinket to an even weirder client? Yes. Was he using Stakar's cut of the units to go on a bot binge? Yes. Was Stakar going to wring his neck? Hell yes. 

He tips his head down and into the icy cold wind. The shadow of a massive flagship looms over him but he doesn't bother checking to see whose it is. As long as it isn't the Starhawk or part of her fleet he couldn't care less. 

His favorite bothouse offered pretty yellow bots with all sorts of interchangeable parts and features. It's expensive and lavish and right up his alley. After his last stunt a few months back of spearing a mouthy Aakon navigator right through the tongue he was itching for some action. The job had been thrown at him to keep him from going stir crazy after his months-long grounding. It had been a boring snatch and grab without even the slightest hint of danger. He was young yet at probably-twenty-five and he could almost feel pent up energy vibrating through his body. 

Or maybe it was indigestion. 

The red neon sign that flashes overhead combines with pale skin and yellow jumpsuit to cast a sickly hue over him. He leans over some doe-eyed Kree and draws out suggestive nothings in that stupid hick accent. 

Yondu doesn't need to get closer to know what's happening. He should have felt him the moment he'd stepped onto the planet but the snow was thick and the planet's soil was buried too far beneath. In the reflection of one of the windows, he can see the flagship of Charlie-27's clan, the Oriskany, looming in the distance. 

Kraglin holds his reflected gaze for a few moments. In the light, his eyes are nearly black. He tips his head once and then returns his attention to the Kree boy tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a class of US ships called SCB-27 or Two Seven-Charlie so... I stole the name of one of them.


	11. Chapter 11

"You're shaking like a fucking leaf."

The yellow jumpsuit doesn't look good on him but the position of his flame declaring him an officer does. The scruff on his cheeks and neck make him look older but there's still that hint of fat on his cheeks. His ears, nearly purple from the cold, stick out awkwardly no longer hidden by hair. Nobody could call him pretty anymore but Yondu is drawn to those eyes still.

"Ain't built for the cold." Kraglin grunts. There's a barely-there click of a silver tongue piercing clacking against his titanium teeth. He looks like a proper Ravager instead of a kid. Nearly three years in outlaw space will do that to a man.

Yondu leans against the same table Kraglin is half draped over. Based on the bottles he's barely tipsy. He's switched to water at least which is either a testament to his will power or a lack of units. "Where's the piece of ass I saw you with earlier?"  
Kraglin rolls his eyes. "I don't pay for it. What the fuck you want, Udonta?"

He's not sure, really. They haven't met since Kraglin had jumped ships. The rumors had died down not long after the Xandarian had left. Yondu had considered sending Kraglin a message but his pride never allowed it. The Starhawk had become a lonely place without his skinny friend. 

"It's just been a long time." He shrugs off his coat and carefully lays it over Kraglin's shoulders not unlike he had the day they'd met. "We never got a chance to talk."

Kraglin pulls the heavy, navy coat closer and Yondu is fairly certain he sees him sniff the fur lining. "Got nothing to say to you." He murmurs. "You trying to play adult fucked me over good."  
"Can't be all bad. Saw on one of the reports that you made head engineer. I thought you was a weapons guy." At first, he had avoided all mention of Kraglin. He'd never had a friend before and losing his first one over a bald-faced lie had hurt in a way he still didn't understand.  
"M'educated." Kraglin closes his eyes. "Real educated. Pa paid for private school and not that bullshit compulsory Xandarian learning." He's not drunk at all which seems like a shame. "I know the basics of most shit." He pauses. "Heard you ain't get promoted." He locks his blue eyes with Yondu's and grins slow and shit-eating. 

Martinex had finally gotten what he'd wanted and had been promoted to first mate. Stakar hadn't even offered Yondu the spot of second mate. He had let Yondu finally buy his ship and that was all that he really wanted. He'd never wanted to be stuck to Stakar like that. He wanted real freedom.   
"Nah, but I finally bought an M-ship of my own. Call her Blue Moon and got her a fancy paint job. I'm out for my own faction." 

Kraglin sits up slowly. He reaches around himself to keep Yondu's coat close. He's not shaking as much but the ice-cold purple on his ears, nose, and cheeks is still there. "I wanna see what my units bought."

* * *

Kraglin slides his arms into the sleeves of Yondu's coat. The sleeves are too short and his shoulders are too narrow. He doesn't seem to mind and he doesn't seem to be of a mind to return the garment any time soon. "You landed like shit." He peers up at the ship. It's painted bright blue with garish red stripes. There are dings in places that make it very obvious that it's knocked against the walls of the hangar more than once.

"Snow's just hard to land on." Yondu leads him inside. As with his cabin, he's already started to clutter the space with trinkets and snack pouches. One of the displays flashes with several missed communications from Stakar. As they pass he swipes his hand along the notification to delete them.   
Kraglin picks up one of his baubles. It's a weird, orangish blob creature that squishes and bulges when squeezed. "Captains usually collect kid's toys?" He drops the toy back where he found it. He reaches up and knocks his knuckles against one of the exposed pipes. There's only a hint of the awkward kid he'd once been. There's a quiet confidence to him that makes Yondu squirm.

He has to adjust himself when Kraglin's not looking. 

"Ain't like this is gonna be my flagship." He huffs. He throws himself onto a heavily padded bench. "Gotta find one and take it. Stakar don't just hand out seats at the table."

Kraglin melts onto the bench right next to him. The air is tense but it's almost like old times. If he imagines hard enough he thinks he could imagine they were back in the mess in the Starhawk. 

"I'm nineteen...Almost twenty." He tips his head toward Yondu. His eyes are half-lidded and his wind-chapped lips are wet from licking. "And we're not on the same crew no more."

The sight of those big blues fogged with want goes straight to his groin. Then he feels his stomach twist. "I ain't fucking you, boy." He leans back against the bulkhead. He's never fucked anyone before but Kraglin doesn't need that information. "But you can sleep here if you want."

Kraglin tips his head even more until he's leaning all of his weight on Yondu's shoulder and side. He feels nearly weightless. "Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just saying that Rooker is 2 inches short and almost 60lbs heavier than Gunn. We're getting close to the end. Maybe 2-3 more chapters. I prefer short, chunky chapters.


	12. Chapter 12

The ease in which they fall back into comfortable closeness is almost strange. Yondu doesn't end up at that fancy bot house he'd been craving. Kraglin sobers up within an hour or so. They sit at the little galley table in the center of the Blue Moon. Kraglin had returned his coat once he'd properly warmed up and now he's then unzipped part of his jumpsuit to get comfortable. There are some funny looking tattoos down the side of his neck that Yondu's translator can't read. They add to his new rugged look. 

"Stakar's gonna murder you." 

Yondu picks at his teeth with one long nail. "Nah. He'll lay into me in front of the crew but that's all. He still treats me like a damned kid." He takes in the easy way Kraglin slumps in his seat. The yellow jumpsuit makes him look slightly ill. He'd looked so much better in blue. 

"I... defended you, you know." He ventures. He isn't one to apologize for anything. "I did, yeah? After you left and all that shit."  
"You defended yourself." Kraglin rolls his eyes. 

Yondu couldn't deny it. What need did he have to fuck some kid when he could have his pick of half the crew? He didn't need emotional attachments holding him back from his goal. 

"Doesn't mean I ain't wanted to protect you." He grumbles. "Wadn't right what that icy fuck said about you. You earned your place." He taps his nails against the table. "And it's real hard to find a friend among thieves."

There is a lull in their conversation. Kraglin plays with the patch on his chest. Yondu's is still sewn onto his arm. Not all clans followed the tradition of officers wearing the patch above wherever their species' heart was positioned but Stakar and Charlie-27 were part of the original seven and followed the original code a little more strictly. Yondu has never had an official rank. Stakar hadn't seen fit to name him as second mate. He was still nothing more than an apprentice. 

"Thought about you a lot." He properly looks into Yondu's eyes. He'd never been big on eye contact. "You saved my life. Taught me to fight and shoot... Helped me find my purpose." He touches his neck where the strange tattoos mar his skin. "Could have used you a few times to bail my ass out. I needed my friend."

Yondu's eyes trail to his mouth. It shouldn't be this easy but he leans in and barely grazes Kraglin's lips with his own. 

"Yondu Udonta."

"Aww hell." He groans.

* * *

Of course, Stakar would have hidden a tracker somewhere on the Blue Moon when he'd finally sold her to Yondu.

Kraglin rises and salutes with no hurry. His face is blotchy purple-pink at being caught. Yondu's face is nearly as dark as his leathers from rage. 

"This is my ship. Who're you to barge in here like you own the place?" 

Stakar stands tall in the doorway arm crossed and scowl leaning toward anger rather than disappointment. His solar wings glow and the air crackles with energy. "You're my crew. I don't have to explain a damned thing to you, son." He jerks his hand at Kraglin. "Get out. Charlie's looking for you."

Kraglin hesitates for a moment. He's always been loyal and obedient. He grabs Yondu's wrist and bumps their comm watches together. A little tune announces that he's shared his contact information. He salutes Stakar one last time before rushing away with his proverbial tail between his legs.

"I expected better from you." Stakar rumbles. He leans against the galley door effectively blocking off the only useful exit. "First you steal from me and now I find you sneaking off to meet with that Xandarian kid." He shakes his head. "This is why I can't trust you, Yondu. You're still a boy."

Yondu's implant lights up first quickly followed by Stakar's solar wings flaring. The lights reflect off of some of the shinier trinkets lining the wall above the tiny food preserver and the galley looks like it's on fire.

"I ain't no boy. I'm a man on a leash." He stands and impulsively stalks toward his mentor and pseudo-father. "I'm your pet project."

Blood fills his mouth. Stakar's hand is still raised as if he's going to backhand Yondu again. "Watch your mouth, son. You owe me your life and I've given you chances to prove you don't need babysitting. You haven't proven a damned thing."

He spits red onto the floor of the M-ship. "You want me to rely on you." He bares blood-stained teeth.   
"I want you to be a man! Ravagers don't steal from other Ravagers. Ravagers don't sneak around with some fling. That why you're here, boy? Letting sentiment get to you? Rotting at your brain until you can't think straight."

The second hit hurts less physically and more psychologically. He keeps his head down and lets the blood drip from his mouth. 

"That's the first time I seen him since he left. He wasn't never a fling. Ain't never so much as kissed him." He can feel his nails biting into the meat of his palms from how hard he's clenching his fists. He doesn't know why he feels so compelled to explain himself. Not, he knows, but he can't admit it. 

Stakar grabs him by the cheeks and forces red to meet brown. "You let this keep distracting you and you will never earn a place at the table. Don't think I don't know you've been hacking the system to check up on him. I don't know why you're so stuck on him but this has to stop. You're meant for more."

* * *

The junker called her the Quadrant. She was meant to be part of an old, obsolete system of mix and match ships. The junker had taken one look at his Ravager garb and the price of the piece of shit had gone up by a hundred thousand units. A quick whistle and the ship was his. Some of the units he'd saved would go to new boots that weren't stained with green blood. 

The Starhawk raises her canons as soon as the Quadrant nears. Ninety-nine Ravager flagships turn their weapons on the piece of junk. 

Some button mashing and guessing finally pulled up the comm. He inputs the Starhawks hailing frequency after some more guessing. He grins wide at the shocked faces of the captains seated around the table. "Room for one more?"


	13. Chapter 13

"The purple wire."   
"I'm plugging in the fucking purple wire and nothing is happening!"  
"The other purple wire."

As it turns out, being captain of a ship isn't easy and being captain of a ship with barely even a skeleton crew is even harder. He had only been voted in as the one-hundredth captain by a majority tipped by a single vote. Recruiting the few men who called him captain had been an ordeal. They were mostly the idiots on their last shot before being spaced or stranded. Only a few of Stakar's men had followed him with Tullk being the only one of any use. 

"There's only one gods damned purple wire!" He snaps at the screen. Across the galaxy, Kraglin's lounges in his quarters. He has a datapad with decades-old schematics for the Quadrant in his hands. "The one with lavender stripes." He glances at the comm screen. "Don't look at me like that. You stole the biggest, oldest piece of shit this side of Kree space."

They've been in contact for months. They comm one another almost every evening shift. If not they send messages back and forth about nothing important. Maybe it is rotting his brain. Kraglin's goofy smile makes his stomach churn in a way that he welcomes. He can't explain where the feeling really comes from. They'd spent a little more than a year together on Stakar's crew and then even longer apart. The sudden stream of communication feels right from his bones to his ruined Tahlei. He's drawn to Kraglin and Kraglin is drawn to him. The sentiment was going to get him killed one day.

"I'm not a fucking engineer."  
"Or pilot." Kraglin practically hums. "If you would just hire a proper nav team then this wouldn't have even happened." He turns his attention fully to his view of Yondu through the holo screen. "You should be recruiting instead of focusing on units. You got access to Stakar's loans."

Stakar had looked disappointed when Yondu had formally left his side. Martinex had looked smug and nearly possessive. Brain rotting indeed. Still, Stakar answered his messages and left comments on his monthly reports. He treated him like he did any of the other captains; somehow that hurt more than any of the physical abuse Stakar had ever doled out. 

"I ain't taking shit from him when I can earn it." He splices to wires together and snarls at the nasty shock causes. The room's lights rumble to life as electricity is properly restored. The captain's quarters at four times the size of the suite he'd shared with Martinex before the Pluvian had made first mate. He's already started to fill it with his collection of bric-a-brac.

"Finally." Kraglin tosses the datapad aside. He rolls over so he's properly facing the screen. From what Yondu can make out he's laying in bed without that ugly yellow jumpsuit on. He looks tired and awfully fond.  
"Just go on to sleep." He grumbles as he begins to replace the panel. "Coulda done it without you anyway."

Kraglin smiles one of those slow, shy smiles. "Nah. I'll stay awake to make sure you don't fry your blue ass. Next panel." The Xandarian is asleep not fifteen minutes later. Yondu doesn't cut off the feed.

* * *

The next time they see each other is at the yearly clan meeting. The Quadrant is nearly fully outfitted with a proper crew and Clan Udonta has undertaken several risky, rewarding missions. Yondu's bounty has already tripled. He's making a name for himself and he's damned proud. 

Kraglin's settled himself into one of the portholes on the main deck. He leans against the ice-cold window and shivers slightly. Instead of the man before him, Yondu sees that kid from what feels like a lifetime ago. He quietly removes his long, red coat and tosses it at Kraglin's face as he settles himself across from him. 

Kraglin stares down at the coat for a long while. He looks up at Yondu with a curious expression yet doesn't speak. He's always been the quiet type. 

"What?" Yondu turns to stare out into the vastness of space. He knows his face is navy. 

With an odd grace, Kralin moves those long limbs until he's slowly leaning back against Yondu's chest. He drapes the coat over them like a blanket. He's stiff and awkward against Yondu's breathless chest. He smells like oil, leather, and the Jovian herbs Charlie-27 claims is good for the nerves.   
"What is you doing?" He can't help the way his voices wavers. Kraglin is a skinny thing with no discernable fat. There's lean muscle, yes, but also bird-like bones and hidden blades. He weighs halfway to nothing and yet his body is all Yondu can focus on.  
"Sharing warmth." Kraglin's voice is no better. He sounds more hesitant than scared. Kraglin's never been afraid of him. "Cuddling if you want to call it that... I wouldn't mind calling it that."

Slowly, very slowly, Yondu wraps his bulky arms around the other male and holds him close.

* * *

The Oriskany is nearly triple the size of the Quadrant. Both are dwarfed by the Starhawk. Four other Ravager flagships are docked nearby. It's meant to be a meeting between captains in preparation for a massive heist. 

Yondu skips out on the meeting when Kraglin slams him up against the wall of the shady bar they'd agreed to meet at. The kiss, their first real kiss, is gentle and filled with longing. They celebrate another first in a rented room upstairs. 

"Yondu Udonta."

"Aww hell." He groans. He turns on his heel in time to dodge a small, sharp blade. It lands with a twang in a nearby metal pillar. Its owner draws another but stops when Yondu's arrow ends up between his eyes. 

"Trouble in paradise." Charlie-27 rumbles out a deep laugh. 

Kraglin looks beyond pissed. His face is nearly as purple as the marks now covering the tattoos along his neck. "You son of a bitch!" He steps forward and the arrow moves with him. "You gonna skip out on me? Fucking coward!" He keeps moving and the arrow never so much as singes his eyebrows. 

Yondu didn't need his Tahlei to feel the resistance in the yaka. The only other person his arrow had reacted to like this had been Stakar. No matter how angry he'd become he could never spear the man through. Kraglin had never feared the arrow and Yondu knew he would never be able to hurt him with it. 

"I can explain." He tries weakly. Six Ravagers gather loosely behind him. Stakar looks almost amused and Aleta lovesick or maybe just sick. The others hide smiles and snickers as best they can.

"We'll give you two a few minutes." Stakar butts in. He herds the tittering group of supposedly hardened captains toward the M-ship meant to be used for the mission. 

Kraglin's breathing hard. His eyes are slightly wet and his face is still purple. "Explain why I woke up to a empty bed. You finally get what you want or something? Can't bother to talk to me? Am I just some gods damned conquest? You played a long con, Udonta."

The arrow returns to Yondu's hand. He plays with the razor-sharp tip and averts his gaze. Already he's earned a reputation for being a right bastard to his crew. He takes no shit and runs his ship following the code nearly to the letter. This feelings thing wasn't him and yet every time he so much as thinks about Kraglin he feels so much.

"Answer me!"

Their night had been spent under the covers and on top of the covers and over a desk and then on the floor when the desk had broken. They'd fallen asleep together with Kraglin sprawled on his belly with Yondu's arm under his head. 

"I...Ain't want to say goodbye." He scrubs his face with his free hand. "Alright? I ain't want to say goodbye." 

One day sentiment is going to kill him. Stakar had warned him for years and years not to get attached to anything. He wasn't sure what his people believed about love but he thought that maybe this is what it felt like.

Kraglin's shoulders go slack. The blades in his hands disappear with practiced ease. He leans down and kisses Yondu so soft that his knees go weak. "Ain't goodbye...Not a real one." He smiles awkward and small. "You're gonna come back to me fixing that hunk of shit you call a ship. It's about time you got a real engineer."

* * *

The Quadrant needs a first mate. Yondu's realized he can't do it all. He holds an election, something that hasn't been done since Stakar's daddy was the Ravager admiral. 

Kraglin doesn't throw his name in the pot. He stands to the side looking mighty fine in his deep red jumpsuit. He's been a Ravager for nearly six years now. He'll never grow into those long limbs or big ears. His nose is more crooked now after being broken a dozen times. Under his jumpsuit, he's got scars. His tattoos mark him as a former prisoner. His hair is starting to grey prematurely. He looks like a proper man now. Yondu is very pleased to have that man share his bed. He shows him no special favor outside of their bedroom and any respect or fear Kraglin has was earned by his own actions.

He pulls up the screen showing the final tally. Kraglin looks just as shocked as Yondu when his name, a write-in, is at the very top of the screen. 

"Obfonteri." He turns his red gaze to those big blues. "You better not fuck this up."

"Aye, Captain."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a whole ass fic just for this one chapter.

The prototype fin had been a labor of spite. The Kree had taken away a part of his body and he’d chosen to replace it as best he could. Kraglin had done most of the work. He had an eye for detail and the brains to bring Yondu’s vision to life. His Tahlei would never grow back no matter how hard he willed it. It would forever remain as an ugly scar along his spine. When he stepped onto a new planet he would never feel the hum and throb of life. He would never be able to touch something and feel what was in its heart. He had come to accept that his abilities would be forever stunted.

Stunted, but not entirely gone.

The Quadrant has always felt like home from the moment he’d stolen it. It was once the heart of the Eclector; now it was all that was left of her. When he closes his eyes he can pretend that he's still a green captain. He can pretend that he feels the life of his men running up his legs. 

The new fin’s height is primarily for show. He had always been a fan of flashy things. Kraglin had worked magic in upgrading the internal processor and antennae. He could feel more. He could sense more. When the fin had finally come online for the first time he had sensed something he had foolishly hoped would never come.

“Kraglin.”

He wasn’t a boy anymore. Kraglin was still tall and skinny. He’d never quite grown into his limbs and he’d never quite learned how to hold himself. He was going grey and there were wrinkles where there had once been smooth skin. He’d killed dozens and dozens of life forms and stolen and cheated his way through half of the galaxy. Despite everything they'd been through, Yondu still saw the kid with the big blue eyes and shy, uncertain smile peeking through. He'd always warned Peter that sentiment would rot his brain if he let it get away from him. He was too damned old to worry about his own brain anymore.

There wasn’t time to talk about it properly. Things had been strained between them since Peter had run off and finally left the Ravagers for good. The mutiny had been expected, really. It was a long time coming. He’d grown soft and weak and scared. He wasn't meant to be a captain anymore. 

“I ain’t mad. I don’t blame you for none of this.”

Kraglin is soft and weak and scared too. He truly hadn’t meant for anyone to get hurt. Yondu can feel the regret travel along the metal floor and up through his boots and into his implant. “It were my fault,” Kraglin whispers. He’d been quiet since takeoff. “I’m sorry.”

“Ravagers don't say sorry.” He corrects low and almost strained. He reaches out and grabs Kraglin’s bird-like wrist. “But I'm gonna say it. Shoulda been a better captain...Better friend...Better mate.” He steps forward and into his first mate’s space until their chests are almost touching. "I wasted a lot of time that I ain't never gonna get back." He chooses not to answer the confused look on the other male's face. Kraglin had always been the quiet type but after decades of being together as both comrades and mates, he could read his man like a book.

He isn’t sure how this is supposed to go. He isn’t sure of what he feels is a warning or a promise. What he does know is that this is the last time he’s going to see Kraglin. This is the last time he’s going to see him go purple-pink and shy. This is the last time he’s going to look into those big blue eyes and see stupid, sentimental love. One of them isn't going to make it through this. He can't bring himself to say it.

His stomach flips and roils as though he needs to vomit. In his younger days, he might have pulled away; he might have chalked it up to indigestion and run off to the bathroom. He's not a hotshot twenty-something anymore. He's a man on the wrong side of fifty and suddenly feels so tired. 

He sets his hand on the back of Kraglin’s neck and pulls him down the few inches needed to kiss him slow and proper for what feels like hours but it’s only a minute at most.

“You’re still as pretty as the day I met you,” he whispers against his lips. 

There it was: The blue-eyed boy and his shy smile. He leans in and presses their foreheads together. He’s so scared. It rattles through the implant hard enough to push a sigh out of his lungs. He's not used to being scared. He was supposed to be the unshakeable Yondu Udonta, but here was his mate ready to die for him, and down below them his boy might already be dead. He knows he will never see his family again. 

He lets his hand drop. Kraglin recovers from his stooping position. He doesn’t stop smiling.

“Finish the preparations and wipe that dumbass look off your face.”  
Kraglin’s grin grows until his cheeks are creased and his titanium teeth glitter in the light. “Aye, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the 3 people in the Yondu/Kraglin fandom enjoyed this. Also, was Eclector's name inspired by eclectic?


End file.
